San Francisco during the eventful days of April, 1906; personal recollections by James B. Stetson

F
869

S3S766

AN FRANCISCO DURING
THE EVENTFUL DAYS
OF APRIL, 1906

SAN FRANCISCO DURING

THE EVENTFUL DAYS

OF APRIL, 1906

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS

BY

JAMES B STETSON

THE MURDOCK PRESS
SAN FRANCISCO

These recollections were written
in June, 1906, but the first edition
being exhausted and a new one
being required, I have included
some events that occurred later,
without changing the original
date.

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS

DURING THE EVENTFUL DAYS

OF APRIL, 1906

As the earthquake and the great fire in San
Francisco in the year 1906 were events of such
unusual interest, and realizing how faulty is
man's memory after time passes, I have here
jotted down a few incidents which I personally
observed, and shall lay them away, so that if
in the future I should desire I can refer to these
notes, made while the events were new and fresh
in my mind, with some assurance of their ac-
curacy.

On the morning of April 18, 1906, at 5:13, in
my residence, 1801 Van Ness Avenue, I was
awakened by a very severe shock of earthquake.
The shaking was so violent that it nearly threw
me out of bed. It threw down a large book-
case in my chamber, broke the glass front,
and smashed two chairs; another bookcase fell
across the floor; the chandelier was so violently
shaken that I thought it would be broken into
pieces. The bric-a-brac was thrown from the
mantel and tables, and strewed the floor with
broken china and glass. It is said to have lasted
fifty-eight seconds, but as nearly as I can esti-
mate the violent part was only about twelve
seconds.

4 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

As soon as it was over I got up and went to
the window, and saw the air in the street filled
with a white dust, which was caused by the
falling of masonry from St. Lake's Church on
the diagonal corner from my room. I waited for
the dust to settle, and I then saw the damage
which had been done to Claus Spreckels's house
and the church. The chimneys of the Spreckels
mansion were gone, the stone balustrade and
carved work wrecked. The roof and the points
of the gables and ornamental stonework of the
church had fallen, covering the sidewalk and
lying piled up against the sides of the building
to the depth of eight or ten feet.

About this time Rachel and Nora were knock-
ing at my door and inquiring if I were alive.
I opened the door and they came in, Rachel
badly frightened and Nora sprinkling holy
water over the room.

I hurriedly dressed and went up to my daugh-
ter's (Mrs. Winslow's) house, 1945 Pacific
Avenue, and found her and the children with
their neighbors in the street and very much
frightened. Their house was cracked consider-
ably, and she had been imprisoned in her room
by the binding of the door, which had to be
broken open to enable her to escape. The chim-
neys of her house were thrown down and much
valuable glass and chinaware broken. I re-
turned to my house and found that the tops of
all my chimneys had been thrown down, and
one was lying in the front yard sixteen feet from
the building. There were some cracks visible
in the library, but none in my room, and only

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 5

very few in the parlor and dining-room. In the
kitchen, however, the plastering was very badly
cracked and the tiles around the sink thrown
out. In the parlor the marble statue of the
"Diving Girl" was thrown from its pedestal and
broken into fragments. The glass case contain-
ing the table glassware in the dining-room and
its contents were uninjured; very little china and
glassware were broken in the pantry; the clocks
were not stopped. A water-pipe broke in the
ceiling of the spare room and the water did some
damage.

I then went over to the power-house of the
California-Street Railroad and found that about
seventy feet of the smoke-stack had fallen diag-
onally across the roof, and about six feet of it
into the stable, where were two horses; fortu-
nately it did not touch them, but before they
were released they squealed and cried most
piteously. One of them was so badly frightened
that he was afterward useless and we turned him
out to pasture and he grew lean and absolutely
worthless. Things were considerably disturbed,
but the engines were apparently uninjured. The
watchman was not injured, although surrounded
by falling bricks and mortar. I was told that
the water supply was stopped, and later learned
that it was because the earthquake had broken
the water-mains.

I then started on foot down-town, this was
about 7 A. M. ; no cars were running on any
line. The sidewalks in many places were
heaved up, chimneys thrown down, and walls
cracked by the earthquake. St. Mary's Cathe-

6 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

dral and Grace Church gave no outward sign
of being injured; neither did the Fairmont Ho-
tel. I went on California Street, over Nob Hill,
and as I got in sight of the business part of the
city, I saw as many as ten or twelve fires in the
lower part of the city. The wind was light from
the northwest, and the smoke ascended in great
columns, and the sun through it looked like a
large copper disk. When I arrived at Cali-
fornia and Montgomery streets the lower part
of both sides of California Street seemed to be
all on fire. I did not realize that the whole city
would be burned. I had a vague idea that it
would stop, or be stopped, as fires had been hun-
dreds of times before in this city. I went along
Sansome Street to Pine and down Pine towards
Market. I saw that Holbrook, Merrill & Stet-
son's store was all on fire, and when I arrived
at Front Street I saw that the Commercial Block
on the southeast corner of Front and California
streets (on the fifth floor of which was my of-
fice), was not on fire. So I started to go toward
the building. The fire was then burning fiercely
at the southeast corner of California and Bat-
tery. I went to the entrance at 123 California
Street and met the janitor coming out, who said
I could not go upstairs, as the building was on
fire on the fifth floor. However, I started slowly
up. The sparks were coming down into the
open area in a shower, but there was no smoke
in the building, so I was sure that it was not on
fire on the inside. I got up to my room on the
fifth floor and found the door would not come
open. I tried the door in the adjoining office

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 7

of the American Beet Sugar Company and found
it open. From that room I got into mine. I
raised my shades, and the fire was blazing at
Battery Street and California, fully seventy-five
feet high, and not more than three hundred
feet distant from me. ' I looked through the hall
and rooms and saw no smoke, and was sure that
I was safe for a few minutes. As I turned the
combination of my safe to open it another shock
of earthquake came, which confused me a little,
but I persevered and opened it. I had a quan-
tity of souvenirs and presents which had been
given me in years past. These I gathered up,
and with my deeds and insurance and other
papers soon had my arms full. I saw a fish-
basket on my closet; I got it down and put all
these little things in it, then opened the little
iron box in the corner of the safe, and there
dropped out some coins on the floor. I remem-
bered that I had put four twenty-dollar pieces
in there the day before. I felt on the floor and
picked up two of them, and as I did not find
any more I concluded that they must have re-
mained in the safe ; so I took the fish-basket and
my books and papers in my arms, closed the
safe, turned on the combination, and started
down the stairs to the street. The sparks were
plentiful in the area when I went up, but they
were more so as I came down, — a perfect fire-
storm, after the manner of a snow-storm. When
I got back on to California Street the air was
a mass of sparks and smoke being blown down
the street toward the ferry. As I had to go
against it to get to Front Street, I was afraid

8 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

that my papers would take fire in my arms; so
I buttoned up my coat to protect my papers,
pulled my hat over my eyes, and dived through,
up California Street and out Front towards
Pine Street, from where I started. There
I found it clear of smoke and fire. As I passed
along with my arms full I saw a typewriter
cover on the street, which I picked up. Finding
it empty, I stopped and turned it over and, drop-
ping my bundle into it, started for Front and
Market Streets. There was no fire within a
block of that corner at this time. This was
about 8 A. M. — perhaps 8 :3O. I sat down on an
empty box in the middle of Market Street for
a rest, when W. R. Whittier came along and
helped me with my load. We took it to the
door of the Union Trust Company, and they
would not let me in. I went upstairs and found
Mr. Deering, who took it, and we went down
and put it into the vault between the outer and
inner doors. (In twenty-two days afterward I
received it back in as good condition as when
I had left it there on the memorable i8th of
April.) I next went up to Third Street and
found the fire raging strong at the corner of
Third and Mission. My son was passing in
his automobile, and I got in with him. He was
going to the Mechanics' Pavilion, where he
said he could do some work for the temporary
hospital established there. When we reached
the Pavilion they said there were two hundred
wounded inside. At this hour there was no
building on fire on the south line of Market
Street west of Fremont Street. We went around

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 9

to the drug-stores and hardware-stores to get
hot-water bags and oil and alcohol stoves and
surgeons' appliances. We took with us Miss
Sarah Fry, a Salvation Army woman, who was
energetic and enthusiastic. When we arrived
at a drug-store under the St. Nicholas she
jumped out, and, finding the door locked, seized
a chair and raising it above her head smashed
the glass doors in and helped herself to hot-
water bags, bandages, and everything which
would be useful in an emergency hospital. I
continued with Harry for a couple of hours.
I then started down Market Street. The fire
at that hour, 10:30 A. M., was raging strong south
of Market Street from about Fifth to Tenth
Street. I left Market Street and went up on to
Golden Gate Avenue. At Hyde and Golden
Gate Avenue I saw a large two-story house
which had been wrecked by the earthquake.
The doors, windows and all the upright-portion
of the first story, were crushed and stood on an
angle of 45°. I enquired of a woman seated on
a pile of rubbish, who said "no one was killed,
but what am I to do?" The City Hall was badly
wrecked, great cracks were to be seen and about
two-thirds of the great dome had fallen. On
one of our trips we went out to the Park Emer-
gency Hospital, and at 1 1 o'clock I found myself
in the Pacific Union Club and was able to get
a cup of coffee and a sandwich, which was the
first food I had tasted that day. I went out
from the club- and saw the fire raging on Market
Street between First and Second. About this
hour a policeman notified me to meet the Mayor

io Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

at the Hall of Justice, who had called a meeting
of citizens for 2 o'clock. Met Mr. J. E. Tucker
— sat dawn with him on a box in the middle of
Market Street, opposite Lotta's Fountain, and
we discussed the situation. We agreed that the
city was doomed to destruction, and that we were
unable to do anything to save it. Crowds of
people were about, only looking on — some
looked dazed, and others wildly excited. I
walked down to Bush Street between Sansome
and Montgomery, met Mr. Murphy of the First
National Bank, and Herman Oelrichs, and dis-
cussed with them as to whether it would come
to his building. The earthquake had thrown
the heavy granite cornice of his bank building
into the middle of Bush Street. Murphy,
Grant & Co.'s building was on fire at this time;
this was between i and 2 P. M. Went along
Montgomery to California Street, and found the
fire approaching Montgomery Street. At 3
o'clock it had got to the Palace Hotel on the
Mission-Street side, and by 3 130 it was well on
fire. About this time I went into the Western
Union Telegraph office, and while writing a
telegram to Nellie and Robert, who were on
their way to New York, the announcement was
made that no more telegrams would be received.
I then walked home, and at that time the streets
leading to Lafayette Square and the Presidio
were filled with people dragging trunks and
valises along, trying to find a place of safety.
They generally landed in the Presidio. As
night came on the fire made it as light as day,
and I could read without other light in any part

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 1 1

of my house. At 8 in the evening. I went down-
town to see the situation, going to Grant Avenue
through Post Street, then to Sutter, and down
Sutter to Montgomery. The fire was then burn-
ing the eastern half of the Occidental Hotel and
the Postal Telegraph Company's office, on Mar-
ket Street, opposite Second Street, and other
buildings adjoining. At this hour the fire was
about a mile and a quarter from my house. The
Lick House and the Masonic Temple were not
on fire then. I next went to Pine and Dupont
Streets, and from that point could see that the
Hall of Justice and all the buildings in that
vicinity were on fire. Very few people were
on the street. Goldberg, Bowen & Co. were
loading goods into wagons from their store on
Sutter Street, between Grant Avenue and
Kearny. I attempted to go in to speak to the
salesman, with whom I was acquainted, but was
harshly driven away, by an officious policeman,
as if I was endeavoring to steal something. I
came back to my house at 9 130 and found in the
library Mr. Wilcox and his mother, Mrs.
Longstreet, Dr. and Mrs. Whitney, Mrs. Hicks
and her daughter, Sallie, Ruth, and Marie
Louise. They were all very much alarmed,
as the information which they obtained from the
excited throng on the street was of the wildest
kind. The two automobiles and the Wilcox
carriage stayed in front of the house all night,
at an expense of twenty-five dollars per hour for
the carriage. I felt tired, and went to bed at
ii P. M. and slept until 2:30 A. M. I got up
and went down-town again to see what the sit-

12 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

uation was. I went to California Street, then
to Hyde, then to Pine. From Pine and Leaven-
worth I could see that the fire was at that hour
burning along O'Farrell from Jones to Mason
and on the east side of Mason Street. The St.
Francis Hotel was on fire. I went from Pine
and Mason to the Fairmont Hotel at Califor-
nia and Mason. The hill is very steep between
these streets, and many people, having exhausted
themselves, were sleeping in the street on the
paving-stones and on mattresses. I did not
think the fire would pass beyond the Fairmont
Hotel, as there was hundreds of feet of space
between the front or eastern side of the hotel,
and any other building. But the fire passed up
beyond the hotel on Sacramento Street until
it reached a point where the hotel was at the
leeward of the flames. The hotel was not fin-
ished and in the northeast corner were kept the
varnishes and oils, which very much aided in
the destruction of the building. From Califor-
nia and Mason Streets I could see that old St.
Mary's Church, on the corner of California and
Dupont Streets and Grace Cathedral, on the
corner of California and Stockton, were on fire.
To the north, Chinatown was in a whirlpool of
fire. I returned home on California Street and
Van Ness Avenue. Both streets were thronged
with men, women, and children — some with
bundles, packages, and baby-carriages; but the
usual method was to drag a trunk, which made
a harsh, scraping noise on the sidewalk. I over-
took a man dragging a trunk with a valise on
the top which kept frequently falling off. As

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 13

I approached him I took the valise in my hand
and with the other took hold of the rope and
helped him drag the heavy trunk. As we were
strangers, I am sure that he at first took me for
a thief who intended to steal the valise. I at
once entered into conversation with him, and
from his manner later on I think he changed his
mind, for when I left him a few blocks away he
was hearty in his thanks.

While passing the Knickerbocker Hotel, on
Van Ness Avenue, I saw a party of ladies and
an elderly gentleman. They were very much
excited and were hesitating about returning to
their rooms for their personal effects. I stopped
and assured them that they had plenty of time
to go and return as many times as they wished,
as the fire would not reach Van Ness Avenue
for at least five hours. It did not reach there
for thirteen hours. I think I succeeded in quiet-
ing them, at least for a time.

When I arrived at Sacramento Street and
Van Ness Avenue I saw a woman tugging at
a trunk which had caught on the car-track, and
I helped her release it. From the speed at
which the fire was traveling I judged that it
could not reach that spot in many hours, I ad-
vised her, as she was safe, not to over-exert her-
self, but to take frequent rests. She would not
take my advice and I was obliged to leave her.

The throng of moving people, men and women
with babies and bird cages, and everything
which they held most valuable on earth, began
early Wednesday morning and continued until
the afternoon of Thursday. Early Thursday

14 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

morning Mr. Wilcox, with his mother and sister,
and Mrs. Hicks and daughter left our house
and were able to cross to Oakland, where they
got a train for Los Angeles. Dr. and Mrs.
Whitney went to a friend's house. Early in the
morning I went over to the California-Street
power-house and had a talk with Superintendent
Harris. He said that he had run out 20 cars,
but as the water was shut off and very low in the
boilers, it was not safe to get up steam, and he
was unable to get horses to haul away the cars;
so nothing could be done but await the result,
which was that every car in the house and those
in the street, some of them eight blocks away,
52 in number, were all burned. Not one was
left. I came back to 1801 Van Ness Avenue.
The wind was light but was from the northwest.
At 9 A. M. I sent in my son's automobile my per-
sonal clothing, silverware, bedding, and linen
to Mrs. Oxnard's, 2104 Broadway, and at 10:30
I had the rugs and some other things ready, and
he took them to the Presidio. Matters about
this time began to be rather wild. Van Ness
Avenue was filled with people, all pale and
earnest, every one loaded with bundles and drag-
ging valises or trunks.

We concluded that it was best for Mrs. Win-
slow and the children to leave the city; so my
son with his automobile took them to Bur-
lingame. He had but little gasoline in his
machine, and it was very doubtful if he had
enough to make the run there and return. Not
a drop could be obtained in the city. He
learned that it might be obtained at the Wash-

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 15

ington-Street police station, so applied for some,
but could get none, and barely escaped the ap-
propriation of his machine by the police, by
saying that he was preparing to take out of the
city a load of women and children, and starting
up suddenly and getting out of their reach. So,
with the children, Mrs. Winslow, and a few
articles of apparel hastily gathered together, he,
by a circuitous and zigzag route, out of the city,
made the trip and landed them safely in Bur-
lingame at 4 o'clock. They could get no ac-
commodation at the club, so they accepted the
hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Coleman
in a tent, and the next morning (Friday) went
to Mr. and Mrs. Will Tevis's. Their kitchen
chimney had not fallen, which made it possible
to have cooking in the house, and as they had
wells, the men put the pumps in order; so they
had the luxury of a bath. When she left San
Francisco she expected her own house and mine
would certainly be burned. So, with neither
telephone, telegraph, nor mail, she passed many
anxious hours until Monday, the 23rd, when she
heard that both houses were saved.

At 1 1 130 A. M. of Thursday from my window
I could see blazes on Jones Street at Clay, and
southerly as far as Sutter and Leavenworth.
About this hour, although the fire did not reach
here until after 3 o'clock, the soldiers and police
drove the people from their stores and houses on
Polk Street. Johnson & Co. were ordered out
and not permitted to return to save books and
papers, although they begged permission to do
so. I think the Pleasanton was on fire at about

16 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

this time. At noon the flames were continuous
from Clay, on Jones, to California. At 1 130
it had almost reached Hyde and Clay, and was
continuous from that point to Polk and Sut-
ter, the blaze reaching from 50 to 75 feet
high. At 2:30 it was approaching Van Ness
at Hyde and Washington, and reaching south
as far as Sutter and Van Ness. I was in my
front room watching with my field-glass, house
after house take fire and the long line as I
have just described. I saw many pigeons fly-
ing wildly about, seeking some place of safety.
As it approached Van Ness it did not burn north
of Washington Street. The wind being north-
west, and Van Ness Avenue 125 feet in width,
I felt sure the fire would not cross. While the
fire was thus raging, the thought came to me,
How fast in value is property being consumed?
—and as I looked at the line of flame, I remem-
ber I thought it must be as much as a million
dollars an hour. It shows how imperfect in this
matter was my estimate, when later the loss is
estimated to be four hundred millions, and the
duration of the fire, from 5:15 A. Mv the i8th to
3 P. M. of the 20th — say sixty hours, which
would be at the rate of about six million five
hundred thousand per hour.

At 3 o'clock the soldiers drove the people
north on Van Ness and west up to Franklin
Street, saying that they were going to dynamite
the east side of Van Ness. From my window
I watched the movements of the fire-fighters and
dynamiters. They first set fire to every house
on the east side of Van Ness Avenue between

Personal Recollection* of Eventful Days. 17

Washington and Bush streets, and by 3 130 nearly
every one was on fire. Their method was this:
A soldier would, with a vessel like a fruit-dish
in his hand, containing some inflammable stuff,
enter the house, climb to the second floor, go
to the front window, open it, pull down the
shade and curtain, and set fire to the contents
of his dish. In a short time the shades and
curtain would be in a blaze. When the fire
started slowly, they would throw bricks and
stones up to the windows and break the glass
to give it draught. It took about 20 minutes
for a building to get well on fire. From 4 to
4:30 St. Luke's and the Presbyterian Church and
all the houses on Van Ness Avenue from Bush
to Washington were on fire. At about this time
they began dynamiting. Then they started
back-firing, and, as the line of fire was at Polk
Street, the idea was to meet the flames and not
allow them to cross Van Ness Avenue. This
was a great mistake, as it caused the whole of
the blocks between those streets to be on fire at
once, which made an intense heat, while if al-
lowed to approach Van Ness from Polk Street
the heat would have been much less, and would
not have ignited the west side of Van Ness. The
explosions of dynamite were felt fearfully in my
house; those within two blocks would jar and
shake the house violently, breaking the windows,
and at the same time setting off the burglar
alarm. As the windows would break it tore the
shades and curtains, covered the floor with glass,
and cracked the walls. After it was over I
found that it had demolished in my house twelve

1 8 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

plates and fifty-four sheets of glass, each meas-
uring about thirty by fifty inches.

At 4:45 I was ordered out of my house by
the soldiers, — not in a quiet manner, but with
an order that there was no mistaking its terms
and meaning, — about like this: "Get out of this
house!" I replied: "But this is my house and
I have a right to stay here if I choose." "Get
out d — n quick, and make no talk about it,
either!" So a soldier with a bayonet on his
gun marched me up Clay Street to Gough amid
flames, smoke, and explosions. Feeling ex-
hausted from climbing the steep street, and when
within one hundred feet of Gough Street I rested
on a doorstep. I had not been there for more
than two minutes before a soldier on the opposite
side of the street leveled his gun and cried out,
"Get out of that old man, and go up on to
Gough Street." As he had a loaded gun, and
appeared very important, I quickly obeyed his
polite order. As I reluctantly ascended Clay
Street in charge of the soldier, I held back long
enough to see the steeple of the Presbyterian
Church fall. I stayed at Gough Street a while,
looking down upon my house, expecting every
minute to see the flames coming out of it. I
watched from Gough Street with much anxiety,
and made up my mind that I would see if I
could not get back into my house, for I believed
I could save it. The heat was so intense that it
had driven the guards away from Van Ness
Avenue; so, seeing no one near, I quietly slipped
down the north side of Washington Street to
Franklin. As no one was around there, I con-

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 19

tinued to Washington and Van Ness and, put-
ting up my coat-collar and protecting the side
of my face with my hat, I ran along Van Ness
to my front door and quickly got into the house
again at 5 140, being kept out fifty-five minutes.
My clothing got very hot but was not scorched.
This I did at a great risk of my life, for these
soldiers were very arrogant and consequential at
having a little brief authority, and I was afraid
they would not hesitate to shoot on slight prov-
ocation. I felt provoked and disgusted that I
had to take such a risk to enter my own house.
When I returned, Mr. Merrill's house had been
dynamited, and the two churches, St. Luke's and
the First Presbyterian, the Bradbury house at
the corner of Van Ness and California Street,
and the Knickerbocker Hotel adjoining, and the
Gunn house, corner of Clay and Franklin, had
shared the same fate.

On getting into my house again, I saw that the
Neustadter house, at the corner of Sacramento
and Van Ness, was half-consumed, but it had
not set on fire the Spreckels residence, and as
at this time Mr. Merrill's house, which had been
dynamited the second time, was so demolished,
I felt that I could consider that my house had
passed the critical time, for I hoped that Mr.
Merrill's house in burning would not endanger
the west side of Van Ness.

But now a new danger threatened. The
range of blocks from the north side of Washing-
ton Street to the south side of Jackson were on
fire at Hyde Street, and the flames coming
toward Van Ness Avenue, with the possibility

2O Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

of crossing. The Spreckels stable on Sacra-
mento and also the houses back of the Neustadter
residence were now on fire. This, I knew, would
set fire to the three Gorovan cottages, two other
two-story houses, and the dynamited house of
Mr. Gunn, all fronting on Clay Street, between
Van Ness and Franklin. So I watched from
my front window, the fire approach Van Ness
between Washington and Jackson, then go-
ing to my back window to see the threatened
danger from Clay Street. The Wenban resi-
dence, at the corner of Jackson and Van Ness,
was well on fire at 6:15; at 6:55 it fell in. The
Clay-Street danger began at about 7:30 P. M.
At 8:15 the whole front as here described was
blazing and at its full height. My windows were
so hot that I could not bear my hand on them.
I opened one and felt the woodwork, which was
equally hot. I had buckets of water in the
front and rear rooms, with an improvised swab,
made by tying up a feather duster, ready to
put out any small fire which would be within
my reach. I watched the situation for an hour,
and as the flames died down a little I had hope,
and at 10 P. M. I felt satisfied that it would
not cross Van Ness Avenue, and neither would
it cross Clay Street. At this time, as the heat
had somewhat subsided, I ventured out, and saw
a small flame, about as large as my two hands,
just starting on the tower of Mrs. Schwabacher's
house, which is next to mine on Clay Street. A
very few people were around. James Walton of
the Twenty-eighth Coast Artillery, was there,
also C. C. Jones, of 2176 Fulton Street, and

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 21

David Miller Ferguson, of Oakland. I said I
would give any man ten dollars who would go
up and put out that fire. They went into the
house with a can of water, climbed the stairs and
opened a window, and in a few minutes put it
out. Two of the men would accept nothing;
the soldier, the next day, accepted ten dollars.
I later presented Ferguson with a gold match-
box as a reminder of that eventful night. Had
Mrs. Schwabacher's house gone, all in the block
would have gone; the fire would have crossed
to the north, up Pacific, Broadway, and Vallejo,
and probably over to Fillmore, when very little
would have been left of the residence portion
of the city.

Now again another danger came. Another
tier of blocks, from Leavenworth to Van Ness,
between Jackson and Pacific, had taken fire.
This was about 10:15 P. M. At 11:15 it had
got to Van Ness, and Bothin's house, which was
at the corner of Van Ness and Jackson, was
fully on fire, but although it was entirely con-
sumed, the fire did not cross to the west side of
Van Ness. The wind during all the day and
evening was steady from the northwest, — not a
very strong wind, but it helped protect the west
side of Van Ness. At 12 o'clock on the begin-
ning of the 2Oth I saw smoke coming out of the
chimney of the Spreckels mansion. I went out
and spoke to a fireman, and he said he had been
into the house and that it was full of smoke and
on fire. At i o'clock the house was on fire in
the upper rooms, at i :3O it was blazing out of
the upper windows, and in a short time after-

22 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

wards was wholly on fire. The fire caught the
house from the rear windows by the blaze from
the Gorovan cottages. I feel quite sure that if
any one had been on guard inside with a bucket
of water the fire could have been put out.

When the Spreckels house was well on fire I
knew, from its having an iron frame, hollow tile
partitions, and stone outside walls, there would
be no danger from the heat to my house. As I
was quite tired, I told the man Ferguson that I
would go into my house and take a nap. He
asked me what room I would sleep in, and he
promised if they were about to dynamite my
house, or any other danger threatened, he would
knock on my window to give me warning to get
out. I went in and lay down on a lounge in the
library at 2 A. M. and slept until <; A. M. When
I awoke and looked out the flames were pouring
from every window of the Spreckels mansion.
At 10 A. M. the house was thoroughly burned out.
(The general appearance of the house from a
distance is the same as formerly, the walls and
roof remaining the same as before the fire.)

In the morning I went over to the California-
Street engine-house, and found it in ruins.
Beams, pipes, iron columns, tie-rods, car-trucks,
and a tangled mass of iron-work; all that was
not consumed of 32 cars, bricks, mortar, ashes,
and debris of every description filled the place.
The engine-room was hot, but I crawled into it
through what was left of the front stairway,
which was nearly filled with loose bricks, and
the stone facings of the Hyde-Street front. It
was a sad sight to me, for I had something to

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 23

do with it from its earliest existence. The form
of everything was there, but rods, cranks, beams,
and pipes were bent and burned, whether beyond
hope of restoration I could not tell. No one
was there or on the street, and I came away with
uncertain feelings. I had hope, but whether the
loss would be total or partial I could not say. A
further examination showed much damage —
one shaft fourteen inches in diameter was bent
out of line one and one-quarter inches; one eight
inches in diameter, seven eighths of an inch;
some of the large sheaves badly twisted. A new
cable coiled on a reel ready for use was so badly
burned in the portion exposed as to render the
whole useless. As strange as it may seem brass
oilers and fillers on the engine-frames were com-
paratively uninjured. The tank, encased in
brick, contained 6,000 gallons of fuel oil,
and with its contents was uninjured. The
granite blocks on which the engines and drivers
rested were badly scaled and cracked by the heat,
and in some places entirely destroyed. The
portions of the cables in use that were in the
engine-room were ruined, and on the street
were burned off in five different places. The
prospect of ever repairing and getting this
machinery and appliances in operation again
seemed impossible. It was, however, restored,
and started up August i, 1906.

At this time, about 8 A. M. Friday, I saw by
the smoke that three large fires were burning
at North Beach, in the direction of the Union-
Street engine-house, from my house.

24 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

I afterwards walked down into the business
part of the city. The streets in many places were
filled with debris — in some places on Kearny
and Montgomery streets to the depth of four
feet in the middle of the street and much greater
depth on the sidewalk. The track and slot rail
of the California Street R. R. were badly bent
and twisted in many places. The pavement in
numberless places was cracked and scaled. A
very few people were to be seen at that time
among the ruins, which added much to the gen-
eral gloom of the situation. I found it then, and
ever since, very difficult to locate myself when
wandering in the ruins and in the rebuilt dis-
trict, as all the old landmarks are gone and the
only guide often is a prominent ruin in the dis-
tance. As there were no cars running in the
burnt district, I found my automobile very use-
ful although the rough streets filled with all
manner of debris, punctured the tires too fre-
quently.

The water supply in our house was gone, as
was also the gas and electric light. The only
light we could use was candle-light, and that
only until 9 P. M. The city authorities issued
an order that no fires could be built in any
house until the chimneys were fully rebuilt and
inspected by an officer. The water we used was
brought by my son in a wash-boiler in his auto-
mobile. He got it out near the Park. People
all cooked in improvised kitchens made in the
street. As we were prohibited from making
fires in the house, I improvised a kitchen on the
street. I found some pieces of board which

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 25

were blown into the street and partially covered
with brick and stone, from St. Luke's Church
and with some portieres from the house con-
structed a rude shelter, and put a laundry stove
in it, so we could make coffee, stew, and fry
after a fashion. Some people set up a cooking
stove, many set up two rows of bricks, with a
piece of sheet iron laid across. Our door-bell
was rung several evenings, and we were ordered
to "put out that light."

About noon on the aoth the blocks between
Pacific and Filbert were on fire at Jones Street,
and the fire was again threatening Van Ness
Avenue, but several engines were pumping,
from one to another, salt water from Black Point
and had a stream on the west side of Van Ness
until it was saved.

While the fire was threatening, I went up to
my daughter's (Mrs. Oxnard's) and told the
servants to get things ready to take out. I
would go back home, and if it crossed Van
Ness I would return, but if I did not return
in fifteen minutes they might consider the
danger over. It did not cross. While this
pumping was going on, and when the fire had
approached the east side of Van Ness Avenue,
one of the engines in the line suddenly stopped.
This was a critical moment, but the firemen
were equal to the emergency, and they un-
coupled the engine which was playing on the
houses, and remembering that the earthquake
had disrupted and choked up the sewer, thereby
damming up the outlet, and in fact creating a
cistern, they put the suction down the manhole

26 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

and continued playing on the fire, and saved
the buildings on the north side. I tried to get
the names of the foreman and men who had the
presence of mind and cool judgment, but was
unable to do so. This ended the conflagration;
but for three nights after there were fires from
smouldering timbers and slow-burning debris,
sufficient to light up my room so that I could see
to read. I was still in fear of a fire breaking
out in the unburnt district west of Van Ness
Avenue, and as there was no water in the pipes
we would be as helpless as ever. This gave
much anxiety during the two weeks following
the calamity.

When night came on the evening of the ipth,
the parks and the Presidio were filled with
frightened people, old and young. Thousands
left their homes in the (which afterwards proved
to be) unburned district, and sought shelter,
as stated, in the parks and streets in the open
air. Mr. and Mrs. Dr. J. W. Keeney and family
left their home at 2222 Clay Street, and re-
mained on Lafayette Square in the open air for
two days and nights, with hundreds of others,
who feared another earthquake and the con-
flagration.

The afternoon after the fire had exhausted it-
self, the atmosphere was hot, the great beds of
coals gave out heat and glowed brightly at night.
The more I saw of this desolation, the worse it
looked. I barricaded my windows the best I
could with mattresses and rugs, as the wind was
a little chilly. They stayed that way for about
two weeks. The front of my house was blistered

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 27

and blackened by the intense heat. The paint
melted in a peculiar way, and over two of the
windows it hung like drapery. This morning
(Saturday, the 2ist) a man with a policeman
came to the door and demanded blankets, cover-
lids, pillows, and mattresses. I gave all I could
spare, and some draperies besides. They in-
sisted on taking the rugs from the floor, and I
had much difficulty in making them see that
rugs were not what they needed. The tele-
graph and telephone wires made a network on
every street, and for more than two weeks I car-
ried in my pocket a pair of wire cutters, which
I had often occasion to use. During the week
following the fire, I found many water-pipes
leaking, and I went around with a hammer and
wooden plugs and stopped them, in hope to
raise the water sufficient to have a supply in
my house. I think I succeeded. This morn-
ing (Saturday) I was hungry, with nothing in
my house to eat. I found a fireman on the street
who gave me one of two boxes of sardines which
he had, and a stranger gave me soda crackers, so
I had a pretty fair breakfast under the circum-
stances.

Bread we were able to buy after a few days.
On May 3d we were able to buy the staple
articles of food. Up to that time we obtained
what we needed from the Relief Committee,
such as canned meats, potatoes, coffee, crackers,
etc.

The city being under military rule, on May
4th I obtained the following orders:

28 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

SAN FRANCISCO, May 4, 1906.
To All Civic and Military Authorities:

Permit the bearer, Mr. J. B. Stetson, to visit
the premises, 123 California, and get safe.

J. F. DlNAN,
Chief of Police.
May 4, 1906.

Permit Mr. Stetson, No. 123 California
Street, to open safe and remove contents.

J. M. STAFFORD,

Major 2Oth Infantry, U. S. A.

So with this permit, authority or protection,
or whatever it may be called, I found my safe
in the ruins and everything in it that was in-
flammable burned to a coal; one of the twenty-
dollar gold pieces before mentioned was saved.

During the afternoon of the i8th and until
3 o'clock P. M of the i9th the scraping sound
of dragging trunks on the sidewalks was con-
tinual. All sorts of methods for conveying
valuables were resorted to, — chairs on casters,
baby carriages, wheelbarrows, — but the trunk-
dragging was the most common. It was almost
impossible to get a wagon of any kind. The
object of the people was to get to the vacant lots
at North Beach and to the Presidio grounds.

Shortly after the calamity the most absurd
stories were in circulation. It was stated that a
man came out of the wreck of the Palace Hotel
with his pockets filled with human fingers and
ears taken from the dead inmates for the rings
and earrings. As no one was injured in the

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 29

hotel, it was wholly imaginative. A man near
the Park met another who related the shocking
occurrence of two men having been hanged on
a tree in sight, and not a long way off ; the man
hastened to the spot and found no crowd, nor
men hanging.

My son was engaged with his automobile all
the forenoon in work connected with the tem-
porary hospital at the Mechanics7 Pavilion. At
about 1 1 A. M. it was found necessary to remove
the patients, which was finished by noon. When
the last one was taken out, he went in and
made a search, and found that all had been
taken away. Still the report was believed by
many that a hundred or more perished there by
the fire.

A few personal experiences have come to me,
and as I can verify them, I have here inserted
them.

One of our men who roomed near the engine-
house on California Street, packed his trunk
and dragged it downstairs, and started along the
street for a place of safety until he came to a
pile of brick, when he stopped and had just time
to lay the brick all around it and run away. The
next day as soon as the heat would permit, he
went for his trunk and found it slightly roasted,
but the contents uninjured.

A lady who does not wish her name mentioned
relates a very interesting and thrilling story of
her earthquake experience. She says she had
permitted her servant to go away for the night,
and at five o'clock she remembered that the milk-
can had not been placed out as usual, so at that

30 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

hour she concluded to get up and do it herself.
She did so and before she could return to her
bed, the shock came and the chimney was thrown
over, falling on the roof and crashed through
that and the ceiling of the chamber and on to
the bed, which she had left only a few minutes
before.

Alfred Boles, roadmaster of the California
Street Cable R. R. Co., was working on the
cables all of the previous night, and up to about
4:30 on the morning of the i8th. Therefore,
that night at their home in the Richmond Dis-
trict, the daughter slept with her mother. The
earthquake shook the chimney down, which fell
through the roof and ceiling of her room, and
covered the bed with brick and mortar. Had
she been in it she certainly would have been
killed.

Mr. and Mrs. Weatherly, who were living in
the Savoy, carefully packed a trunk of their most
valuable belongings, and he started up Post
Street dragging the trunk, seeking a place of
safety. The porter of the Savoy called him
back, and showed him an express wagon in front
of the house, and said he was about to start for
Golden Gate Park, so he lifted his trunk on to
the wagon. About this time a soldier or police-
man came along and said, "I want these horses,"
and without ceremony unharnessed them, and
took them away. In a few minutes the fire had
got so near, that it was impossible to get other
horses, or move the wagon by hand and the
wagon and contents were burned.

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 3 1

Mr. and Mrs. J. L. Tharp tell a very interest-
ing story of their experience on that April morn-
ing. Their sleeping room was one fronting on
the east side of Scott Street, between Sacramento
and California Streets. When the shock came
it rolled their bed from one side of the room to
the other, quite across the room, and where the
bed had stood was filled with the broken chim-
ney, to the amount of more than three tons. Mrs.
Tharp remembers having oiled the castors on the
bedstead only a short time before, which she
thinks saved their lives. Later in the day or
the beginning of the next, while the fire was
still miles away, some friendly but excited
neighbors, came rushing into Mr. Tharp's
chambers commanding him to flee as the house
was in danger from the conflagration. He was
at that instant engaged in changing his under-
garments, and had his arms and head nearly
through. They shouted for him to come quick
and save himself. He begged for a little more
time, when one of them petulantly exclaimed:
"Oh! let him burn up if he is so slow!" The
fire did not come within two miles of this place.

Shortly after the fire and as soon as people
began to realize the extent of the calamity, I
listened to many discussions and prophecies con-
cerning the future in reference to business and
rebuilding. It was the general opinion that the
business of jewelry and other luxuries, would be
ruined for many years to come; that Fillmore
Street and Van Ness Avenue would be only used
temporarily; that the down-town district would
be restored in two years — many entertained

32 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

opinions exactly the reverse, and predicted all
sorts of gloomy outlooks. Many theories and
predictions were made, none of which have been
verified.

My daughter, Mrs. Oxnard, with her husband
was on the way to New York. At about noon of
the 1 8th they heard, at North Platte, that there
had been a severe shock of earthquake in San
Francisco, and that the lower part of the city
south of Market Street was on fire. They
thought the report exaggerated, and at first de-
clined to give it much attention ; but when they
met friends at Grand Island at about 3 o'clock
they got information of such a character that it
began to give them fear. At every place until
they reached Chicago additional news was ob-
tained, which indicated a very alarming condi-
tion of things here. They went to the offices of
the Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe Railroad
companies, but could get nothing that they con-
sidered reliable. So they started on their way
to New York from Chicago in doubt as to
whether they should continue or turn back. On
arrival in New York on the aoth there was much
excitement. Newspapers issued extras every
hour, filled with fearful stones and of the
progress of the fire. The limits of the burned
districts were reported with great accuracy, but
the stories were alarmingly exaggerated, and in
many instances absurd. One telegram read that
the dead were so numerous that it was impossible
to give burial, and the Government at Wash-
ington was asked to furnish a ship that they
might be carried out far into the ocean and

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 33

thrown into the sea. Some were fortunate
enough to get a telegram, which was eagerly
read and discussed. The number of people
killed was reported to be from one to thirty
thousand.

I finally received a telegram from them ask-
ing whether I would advise them to return,
which I answered at once to come by all means.
So they started back, arriving here on the 4th
of May.

My sister was in Dresden, Germany, and was
like others in an excited condition, until she
could hear by mail from San Francisco. She
says the first knowledge of the disaster reaching
her was from a small evening newspaper printed
in English, which in a very brief item said that
"San Francisco was destroyed by an earthquake
this morning [April i8th]." This was all the
information which she could obtain that after-
noon and evening. A neighbor, a German lady,
came in the next morning and told her that the
German newspapers of that morning said that
the city of San Francisco was on fire, and that
the loss of life was enormous. That day, the
1 9th, she visited the bulletin boards of the dif-
ferent newspapers, and with her daughter en-
deavored to translate the brief cable telegrams
which were posted. The news came to London
in English, and there cut down as brief as pos-
sible and translated into German, so the infor-
mation was very brief. San Francisco people
who were there sought one another for news.
Within a week the New York papers came,
which gave more particulars. While waiting

34 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

for authentic information, such items as these
were in circulation: "Golden Gate Park has
been withered by the intense heat, and people
are crowded to the beach," and that "Typhoid
fever has broken out" ; that a tidal-wave had
swept over the city; that the earthquake shocks
continued; that all communication with the in-
terior by rail or otherwise had been cut off;
that thirty thousand people had been killed.
Whether her family and friends were alive she
did not know.

In this state of mind, she found in a New York
paper a picture of the Spreckels residence which
showed mine. This was the first information that
she received in reference to her family or their
belongings. Mr. and Mrs. Dohrmann and his
sister, Mrs. Paulsen, of San Francisco, were in
Dresden, and did much to allay the fears of the
San Franciscans.

During the first few days the German people
got over the excitement, but not so with those
whose homes were in this city. A letter which
I mailed to her on April 226. reached her on
May 8th, which was the first one she received,
and which assured her of the safety of her family
and friends.

. . Charles Stetson Wheeler, Jr., who was in
school at Belmont, sends me an interesting ac-
count of his experiences. He says:

I was awakened by the violent shaking of my
bed, which rolled across the room and struck
the one occupied by my roommate. The pic-
tures and frames fell from the walls, the bowls
and pitchers from the washstands, the books

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 35

from the shelves, and all were scattered over the
floor. A piece of plastering and a broken wash-
bowl struck me on my head. I at first thought
it was the playful prank of the boys, but having
got out of my bed, I was thrown headlong on
the floor. I knew it was something serious and
realized that it was an earthquake. I in some
way got down the stairs; I hardly know how.
In the yard I found my companions, badly
frightened, all in pajamas, gazing at the sagging
walls, broken windows and chimneys. My room-
mate, who had got out ahead of me, rushed up
to me, and cried out: "By Jove, I am glad you're
out safe; I didn't think of you until I saw you
zig-zagging out of the building." I thanked
him and joined the crowd, watching one of the
teachers, who was climbing the flagpole, so as
to be on top of the building if it further col-
lapsed. We were all silent for a few minutes,
but when the shock was fully over, we talked
glibly and loud enough, and had many jokes.

No fires were started, as in San Francisco.
We asked one another "if this was the end of
the world or only the beginning." "Do you
think we will get a holiday?" etc. As the excite-
ment subsided, we began to shiver, so by com-
mon consent we sought in the ruins for our
clothing. I felt that another shock might fol-
low, and possibly worse than the first, and got
out of the wrecked building as soon as possible.

A little later I found the Head Master of the
school. "Good morning," said I. "Unfortunate
morning," he replied. "Brick structures do not
hold together when acted upon by conflicting

36 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

motions caused by the vibrations due to earth-
quakes. This disturbance is purely local, and
I think that Belmont is the only place which has
suffered." I thought of our home in the city,
which is built of brick, and that my mother,
father, and sisters were in it. The more I
thought of it, the weaker I felt, until my knees
were shaking. In about twenty minutes I was
at the Belmont Station determined to go to the
city to learn the fate of my family.

I tried to telephone, but I was told that both
telephone and wire connections between San
Francisco and Belmont were broken. This was
the first proof that the earthquake was more than
local, and my fears were heightened. As I wait-
ed I was joined by other boys. All were curious
to know what had happened in other places, but
few were worried. Soon the entire school was
gathered at the station. A teacher on a bicycle
arrived and demanded in the name of Mr. R—
that we return to school. The majority com-
plied, but five of us refused. We were prom-
ised expulsion.

At last the train pulled in. We boarded it with
difficulty, for it was packed with Stanford stu-
dents. They told us that their college was a
wreck.

aThe buildings are of stone, you know," said
one, "and stone buildings can't stand up against
an earthquake."

Hearing remarks like this made me so dizzy
with dread that I began picturing to myself the
ruins of my home. I could almost hear the
groans of those most dear to me buried under

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 37

tons of stone and beams. It was maddening, and
I had to struggle some to keep from crying out
like a child.

Slowly the train pulled by the ruins of San
Mateo, Burlingame, and Milbrae, but just out-
side of San Bruno the long line of straining cars
came to a sudden halt. We climbed out to find
out the cause of the stop. Ahead we saw
several hundred yards of track buckled and
humped like much crumpled ribbon. We had
gone as far as possible by rail.

We counted the money in the crowd and de-
cided to rent a rig if possible and drive the
twenty miles to our homes. After walking three
miles, we found no one willing to take us to
the city for the money we were able to offer;
so at this point two of our party left us.

We must have gone about eight miles when
the van of the thousands leaving the city met
us. They were principally hobos and riffraff,
packing their blankets on their backs. We
stopped and anxiously inquired the plight of the
city. Some said that the city was burned to the
ground, some that the whole town was sub-
merged by a tidal wave, but all agreed in this
particular: that it was time to leave the city, for
soon there would be nothing left of it.

The numbers of the retreat were increasing
now. We could see mothers wheeling their babes
in buggies, limping, dusty, and tired. Men
lashed and swore at horses straining at loads of
household furnishings. All were in desperate
haste. This increased our speed in the opposite
direction. We began to see the dense black

38 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

cloud of smoke hanging above the sky-line ahead
of us. We almost ran.

As we passed over each mile we heard more
distressing tales from those leaving. Men called
us fools to be going toward the doomed town.
Thousands were traveling away; we were the
only ones going toward San Francisco.

At last we came to the old Sutro Forest. We
toiled up to the summit of the ridge and looked
down for the first time upon the city we were
raised in. In my mind, it was a sight that shall
always be vivid. The lower part of the city was
a hell-like furnace. Even from that distance
we could hear the roar of the flames and the
crash of falling beams. We were paralyzed for
a moment with the wonder of it. Then we be-
gan to run, run hard, down the slope toward the
city. It was impossible for us to see our homes,
for many hills intervened. Soon we reached the
outskirts of the town. Fear grew stronger and
stronger in my heart as I saw that all the chim-
neys of the houses were littering the streets
through which we passed. They were of brick
and so was my father's house.

The trip across the city seemed endless, even
though we strained every effort to hurry. I
had had no breakfast, and was almost sick with
fear and hunger. We passed a brick church, and
it was in ruins, shaken to pieces by the shock.
I almost reeled over when I saw it. The rest
of the way I ran.

As I came within four blocks of the house I
looked anxiously over the roofs of other houses
for its high chimneys that had hitherto been

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 39

visible from that point. I could not see them!
Then I was sure that all was over, and that my
father, mother, and sisters were lost forever.

These last four blocks I fairly flew, in spite
of my fatigue. I kept my eyes on the ground,
not daring to raise them as I ran. Then as I
reached the curb before the door I never ex-
pected to enter again I looked up. The house,
though shorn of its chimneys, stood staunch and
strong — they were safe. For a second I stood
still. Then, like a poor fool, I began to laugh
and shout. That was the most joyous home-com-
ing of my life.

During the day of Wednesday, April i8th,
I saw some of the damage done by the earth-
quake. The loss to the California-Street cable
railroad was the upper portion of the chimney.
I had my lunch at the Pacific Union Club, cor-
ner of Post and Stockton Streets, and noted that
the building was damaged but very little; only
some few pieces of plastering fell. The Call
Building gave no evidence on the outside. The
Commercial Block, in which my office was lo-
cated, did not show any damage. The door
leading into my office would not open, but the
next one did. My house shows a few cracks.
The tops of the chimneys on my house were
thrown off, and the kitchen chimney had to be
rebuilt. But the great loss, the great calamity,
was the fire. After that had raged for three
days the havoc was fearful to see. For miles
and miles there was not a remnant of anything
inflammable remaining, — nothing but brick,

40 Personal Recollections of Eventful Days.

stone, broken crockery, iron and telegraph
poles. In the general appearance it resembles
the country where a forest fire has swept, the
chimneys and unburned telephone poles repre-
senting the standing trunks of trees. The loss
of life is probably nearly 450. Many earthquake
shocks were felt during the three days of the
calamity, and for as much as two months we felt
gentle reminders.

The soldiers lacked good sense and judgment,
or perhaps it may have been that some in-
competent officers gave senseless orders, — for
instance, the people occupying the stores on
Polk Street, between Clay and Pacific, and the
apartments above, were driven out at 8 A. M of
Thursday, and not permitted to re-enter. As
the fire did not reach this locality until about
4 P. M., there was abundant time to save many
valuable articles which were by this imbecile
order lost. Why this was done, I did not at the
time, nor have I since been able to understand.

Being busy in the work of restoration, I for-
get what a terrible calamity has befallen the
city and the people, but I sometimes realize it,
and it comes like a shock. It is estimated that
28,000 buildings were destroyed. I find that
people lost the power of keeping time and dates,
and if I had not made notes at the time I
would be unable to recollect the events of these
three days with any degree of accuracy in point
of time.

I have felt that it was fortunate that this ca-
lamity did not happen on a Friday, or on the

Personal Recollections of Eventful Days. 41

i3th of the month. Had it occurred on either
of those days, superstitious people would have
had much to aid them in their belief.

The feeding of 300,000 people suddenly made
destitute is a matter of great difficulty, but it
has been done. It rained two nights, — one night
quite hard, — but the health of the people has
been remarkably good.

We had water in the house on the ist of May,
glass in the windows on the i6th of May, gas
on the 5th of June, electric light on the 7th of
June, and cooked on the street until the 8th of
May.

JUNE, 1906.

LEGE)

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F Stetson, James Burgess

869 San Francisco during the

S3S766 eventful days of April, 190